


The Bear and The Hobbit Extras

by SighingWinter



Series: The Bear and The Hobbit [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:07:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SighingWinter/pseuds/SighingWinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each scene within this work is one that comes from my series The Bear and The Hobbit, which will follow the trail of The Hobbit Movies.<br/>Everyone of these was also inspired by my wonderful readers to took the time to share with me their enjoyment of my work and  in return this is my thanks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Hundred Years Later

It had been many long and happy years since the re-taking of Erebor for Billiana Baggins of the Shire. Certainly there had been weeks of pain or sorrow, but over all she had spent her surprisingly long life being happy. She’d had friends, a Dwarf and a Hobbit family (once they had accepted the fact that she most certainly would be marrying a dwarf, thank you), and had even raised Frodo. Perhaps she had been selfish in taking him in but he was like a son to her now and the years when the sorrow had nearly been too much to bear he had been there with bright eyes and laughter. Never would she regret taking him in, except when in her most quiet and more private moments, she feared for the lad and the evil she had brought onto him.

“Dwalin?” She called out lowly, reaching out for the ever familiar presence of her husband these past hundred years. Of late he had been one of the few people who could withdraw her from her thoughts and reflections.

“Here my love.” The gravelly voice rumbled as a large hand roughened by time on many battlefields and gripping his beloved axes too hard, grasped hers own, small hands that had withered almost shockingly fast by the time they had reached Rivendell from the Shire.

“…It seems age has finally caught up with me.”

A warm huff was soon followed by slightly shaky hands running the forks of an all too familiar comb through her, now white, curls which had only grown worse in the years rather than better and more tame-able, like her mothers had. “Time catches up wit’ us all lass, even with tha’ tree huggers yah like so much.”

Billa only hummed in reply, foggy forest eyes closing as she breathed slowly in and out. As always her love knew what to say to ease the trouble in her heart, and though she could hardly see and walked achingly slow it mattered not to her One who had aged even worse than she, battles from long ago slowly catching up with him and gradually removing him from his many years of service.

“My Billana, how much longer will you stay in these halls?” The question was low and gentle but spoken with quiet longing that many years ago she would have missed.

“The rest of my life I should suppose…” She sighed, admitting lowly “I cannot make the journey back to Erebor I’m afraid, though I should so much like I be buried with the rest of the Company.”

“I’m sure they would’ve like tha’ as well but we cannah all choose our deaths.”

“Your words are wise this eve, my love.” She teased gently, trying to pull him from the memories she knew she could only barely understand, even when her memory was excellent. But the days where she could recall and express such things were now long behind her, her voice was growing tired as was she.

“These elves treat you well?”

“Of course!” She replied, her eyes opening and looking quite scandalized at the insult that she knew she’d beaten out of him ages ago. The abashed silence was enough of an apology and when she said nothing more, he knew he was forgiven and he continued his gentle ministrations with her hair. At last the comb was put on the ground and warm hands rested on her small frail shoulders, which had begun to droop as her eyes had closed once more.

“Sleep well my Billa. Come to us when you’re ready.”

“Of course my Bear, soon. I promise.”


	2. Understanding Debates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Per- drunkonsmut's request. 
> 
> A day spent running for one's life really does take it out of a person and so while they rest on the Carrock Thorin and Billa grow to understand each other a little more and Dwalin gets a bit of a surprise.

The Carrock was far too tall for Billa’s liking and while she gently scolded Thorin for his little stunt, she helped the younger ones set up camp as Oin tended to the injured. Thorin obediently listened to the bustling Hobbit, understanding perhaps a little, that this was one of the ways she could show concern for him, much the same way Dis did- except without him having to duck under wild gestures made with a too large pan. She was talking to relieve herself and all the dwarves understood that by now and were more than willing to listen, though hated being ordered to sit down like a bunch of children.

When Bofur voice his displeasure as not being able to “totter around” and offer help to the Hobbit Billa had merely looked very long and very hard at him until the grown dwarf’s face looked more like a remorseful child and then had returned to her work. Not long after though she had gently invited them to help, if they wanted to, when Gandalf had brought a few rabbits and more sticks for the fire. Needless to say almost everyone was eager to get back in the lass’s good books and rushed to help.

Dwalin resolutely remained beside his still sitting King, only looking up to meet her stern gaze when she stood in front of him. He blinked slowly, letting her see; just for a moment, just how glad he was that she was safe and just how pained he was to have placed her in danger. Green eyes softened in response and smiling she perched herself behind him and began running fingers through his rather bushy hair.

“Thorin would you pass me the water please, should you have no more need of it.”

The King silently obliged the woman and watched with an odd expression as she grabbed one of the few clean cloths that Oin had and began to wash off the shoot and grime that yet lingered on the warrior. Dwalin was silent though his old friend could tell that the motions the small woman was making reassured the dwarf and relaxed him.

“If you do something so foolish again, King Thorin, know that I will steal something from you.”

“What happened to not being a burglar?” Thorin asked while Dwalin snorted in amusement.

“Well, I suppose I shall just have to practice until I am one.” Was the tart reply, but the King was not all that worried for he saw the warmth in her eyes.

“I look forward to the results.” He informed her with all the gravity he could muster.

Billa’s eyes flashed with laughter and her lips moved to smile and there was peace. The two dwarves watched as the company began to tell stories and laugh, moving past the fear of their near multiple death experiences.

“What will you do Hobbit once the dragon is slain and your share of the treasure in your hands?” Thorin asked suddenly.

Her hands must have stopped moving because Dwalin grumbled mild insults at him in a low voice. “Hush now, my bear. That is not polite.”

Thorin nearly snickered at the flush that spread over the Guardsman’s cheeks but valiantly held in his enjoyment at his friend’s mixture of embarrassment and mortification.

“I don’t really know, Thorin King. Hobbits you see are quite simple folk you see, I have no desire for riches or vast wealth, a warm hearth, good food and the comforts of a home are all I really need.”

Thorin frowned and tried to understand such a desire, before at last he admitted, “I do not think I understand completely. More wealth would ensure that you could add to the comforts of your house, always keep the fire going in your home, live in peace.”

Billa snorted, “I would have expected you of all people to understand that wealth does not guarantee happiness Thorin Oakensheild. All the grandeur of Erebor and the vastness of its wealth did not keep you safe from the likes of Smaug. And surely even before the dragon, your King had to worry about raiders, burglars, even the town of Dale and other dwarvish kingdoms. No- vast wealth only creates problems and ill-will in others and possible in the person owning it.”

“We were not always troubled by such things.” Dwalin rumbled, standing up for his King and people.

“Of course not,” her tone was completely reasonable and calm despite the mild irritation on the dwarves part, “but can you tell me how many of your line married to those who did not want them in truth, merely the wealth possessed?”

The hobbit put down the cloth, which was now stained with soot and smears of black blood. Dwalin’s hair, with the exception of her beard, was soaked and dripping ever so slightly. Thorin watched as Dwalin rummaged around for a moment before pulling out his mother’s ivory comb. It had been a wedding present from his father who had taken down an elephant some years before and had carved the comb himself.

Billa smiled at the warrior before taking the comb and beginning to gently pull it through the tangled mass. “Though her focus remained on the hair in front of her she continued speaking as though there had not just been great pause between her words. “I do not doubt that there were many marriages full of love but surely there were a few dwarves who were not entirely…happy with the end result of their courtship. Surely the lives you have in the Blue Mountains has not been wholly terrible?”

Thorin bristled, “I would not expect an outsider like you to understand our disgrace.”

Billa ignored the barb in favor of frowning at the knot before her. “Of course I don’t understand. But no one ever bothers a group of poor dwarves, who make enough to live and not have large amounts of excess that is never used do they?”

Thorin blinked at her, open mouthed even as the Hobbit rambled on, “And therein lies my point. There is no race of man, orc, dwarf, or elf that would bother us Hobbits simply because we have nothing that they would find of long term material use. Crops do not last long, our homes are too small, we are not brilliant weapons smiths or own great mines, nor do we have significant amounts of money. Thus we are happy. We do not have to watch our children die due to war; we do not have to watch our lovers march off and never return, or watch our backs in case of assassins or poisoned drinks. Simplicity may seem a curse to you, but I do not think your nephews are any worse for it.”

At that Thorin looked towards Fili and Kili, who were laughing brightly at something Bofur and Gloin seemed to be arguing about, and for many long moments he delved deep into his own thoughts and memories of childhood only returning to the world when he heard Dwalin speak.

“What would yeh’ say ta havin’ a child of our own, once we’re settled in Erebor.” Dwalin rumbled softly he eyes also on Thorin’s nephews.

“No more than two my bear, and you will be helping out with them, or Yavanna help you if I find myself stuck at home all day with more.”

Dwalin choked on air and Thorin whirled around to fully look at the hobbit.

“What?!”


End file.
